Stories we tell our children
by panfan87
Summary: Funny how one bedtime story can affect the rest of your life. [one-shot]


**A/N This starts out super sweet, then turns a little angsty (just a warning). See if you catch the episode reference. Also, usual disclaimer.**

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Wisconsin, 1973

"Good night, Madeline, sleep tight!" said her mother with a smile as she finished tucking the comforter firmly around her six-year-old daughter.

"But Mommy! Can't I have just _one _more story tonight?" The young girl blinked her startlingly purple eyes and stuck out her lower lip, "pleeeeease?"

Her mother just chuckled at the attempt. "No sweetheart, not tonight. It's already past your bedtime and I think one book about monsters is plenty for one night. Maybe tomorrow we'll read the princess one your grandmother bought, hmm?"

Maddie simply pouted some more. "I like the monster ones. When I grow up I want to fight monsters, not be a silly princess."

"Ahh yes," her mother sighed. "You and Alicia both." She smiled down at her daughter before giving her a quick peck on her forehead. "You can do anything you want when you grow up dear, although you'll be hard-pressed to find real monsters out there. Sweet dreams my maddie." She turned, flipped the light switch and closed the door part-way, leaving the reassuring sliver of light through the door.

Once she could no longer hear her mother's voice or footsteps, Maddie threw off the covers she had been so meticulously tucked into and scrambled to her desk on the other side of her room. Snatching her flashlight from the desk drawer, she flipped it on and scanned her shelf of chapter books. Aha, there it was, the one she had not had a chance to read yet (besides the princess one of course). She quietly pulled the book off the shelf and scurried back into her bed, throwing the covers over her and switching on her flashlight.

The book was about ghosts. A ghost, actually, that haunted an old building and scared away children. So engrossed in her reading, Maddie didn't hear the door open or the quiet footsteps approach her blanket fort. Not until the big hands of her father grabbed her and yanked her out from under her comforter did she even know someone had entered the room. Maddie let out a shriek and her father just laughed, letting his daughter go as she recovered her breath and heart-rate.

"Daddy, that wasn't funny." She stuck out her tongue at him. This just caused him to laugh even more. "Your mother thought you might have snuck in some extra reading. Let's see what is so good, you are putting off sleep, huh?" He reached back under the covers and pulled out the small chapter book. However, upon seeing the content matter, his laugh and smile were instantly replaced by a frown and furrowed brow.

"Honey, where did you get this?"

Maddie was confused at the abrupt change in mood of her father, but she answered honestly, "It was at school. My teacher said if I liked the monster book, I might like this one too. And it is a higher reading level too." He looked at her, then asked firmly, "sweetheart, what do you know about ghosts?" She shrugged. "They scare people I guess? But Michael says they aren't real, just like monsters and santa claus aren't real." The last part of her remark startled him. After all, they hadn't had the 'santa talk' with her yet. It looked like that was to be combined with the 'ghost talk' tonight.

"Well, your friend Michael is right about Santa Claus, and about other monsters. But he's wrong about ghosts." At this revelation, Maddie sat up a little straighter. "Really? But how do you know?" Her father leaned in closer and whispered in her ear, "I met one." He didn't think her eyes could expand any wider as she turned to look at him.

"When?" she asked back, keeping the hushed tone of the conversation.

"It was when I was boy, about your age actually, and during the beginning of the war. The ghost came up into my room just to scare me and my mother." She let out a gasp, "What did it do?"

"He quoted President Roosevelt, if you can believe that." She raised an eyebrow, obviously doubting him.

Noticing her disbelief, he chuckled, "I know it's weird, but I swear, that's what the ghost did." Her father shook his head, then adopted the somber look from earlier. "The ghost frightened me, but I recovered pretty well. My mother, your grandmother that is, didn't," he said sadly. Maddie reached out and placed her small hand on top of his large one to reassure him. He nodded at the gesture and continued, "The appearance of the ghost spooked her something terrible. She became paranoid, started checking under our beds every night, then under the couches, then in cabinets. The fear that another ghost would show up at any moment drove her mad."

Maddie wrinkled her nose, "It made her angry?"

"No, mad means that she, well, okay, sure, yes. She was angry. And a few year later she died." A tear slid down his cheek. Maddie had never seen her father cry and she sidled up against him. "So the ghost made her die?" she asked. "In a way, yes." He absently moved his hand and stroked her auburn hair, staring at the wall and blinking back more tears. Maddie watched him with trepidation. Her father was always the fun one, the brave one. This version of her father frightened her even more than stories of ghosts and monsters. A minute passed before her father seemed to realize he was still in his daughters room. He shook out his shoulders, wiped at his eyes, and gave his daughter a smile and a hug. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I shouldn't have told you that. I haven't even told your mother that story. Try to get some sleep dear." One last hug and her father slipped out of the room, leaving the door open a crack just a bit larger than usual. Maddie sat on her bed, the book on ghosts next to her, innocently mocking her. She wiped away her own tears she hadn't even realized she had begun to shed. Never again did she want to see her dad like that. And if ghosts were to blame, well, she knew what she was going to be when she grew up. The best ghost hunter ever.


End file.
